Playing Games
by mariteri
Summary: Hermione has never had what anyone could refer to as a "Normal" life. This is less so now that she is with Raymond. In a life fraught with danger, they must play their games-if only for safety sake. Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer—I do not own the Blacklist, Harry Potter or any of the characters therein. Nor do I make any moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.**

**Hello! Hope everyone had magnificent winter holidays. Here we are—another year, another Blacklist/Harry Potter crossover. This time a three chapter story! Enjoy!**

**Please read and review.**

**…**

**Chapter One**

Hermione sat across from Harry, sipping on her wine as he stared at her perplexed. She had wanted to tell him the news on her own without anyone else there for it. Choosing the restaurant had been easy. She made reservations at his favorite little bistro for lunch. It was one of the newest places to open on Diagon Alley after the war. The food was wonderful and the privacy guaranteed. And if she was going to be telling him what she had to, she would need just that.

"I'm confused," he told her.

"I see that," she murmured. "A confused Harry is hard to miss." He glared at her, making her laugh quietly telling him that she was only teasing him.

"Okay, you're married," he said.

"Yes," she replied.

"To Raymond," he continued.

"Yes," Hermione repeated.

"But you're going to be pretending to be married to Viktor?"

"Exactly."

"Why?" he demanded.

She blinked at him, but said nothing.

"It doesn't make sense!"

"It does," she told him. "It makes perfect sense!"

"Then tell me!"

"No."

Harry nearly growled with irritation at that one word.

"All you need to know, Harry, is that I'm married to Raymond," she told him. "We were magically wed day before yesterday, I'm still working for the Department of Mysteries, and I'm still going to go by my maiden name."

He frowned. "Why wasn't I invited?"

She laughed. "We eloped. Our only guests were Viktor and a very lovely woman by the name of Luli."

"Let me guess," he said dryly. "She's going to be pretending to be involved with Raymond."

Smiling she said, "Bravo, Harry. With deductions like that we'll make an auror of you yet."

"Ha-ha," he muttered. "I don't like this, Hermione. You shouldn't have to be doing things like pretending to be married or sleeping with other people. There's more to this than you're telling me and it would serve you right if I looked into it."

All the humor left her face. "I love him." Harry stared at her stunned at her words. "I love him so much. I do not take those words lightly. I never have and you know it."

"Then why the subterfuge?"

She only shook her head no.

"Dammit, Hermione! I deserve the truth!"

"And I deserve a quiet lunch. But with you acting like that, it looks like neither of us will be getting what we want, let alone deserve, any time soon," she retorted dryly.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "That man is dangerous."

"I know," she answered. "But then again, so am I."

Harry just stared at her for a moment. This woman in front of him was nothing like the girl he grew up with. She was complex, secretive, and, yes, dangerous. Sad part of it all was that he didn't know what was more responsible for this woman he was dining with—the war or where she worked. Or both, he thought.

"What is his last name?" he asked her. "And is there a reason why you won't tell any of your friends it?"

"Of course there is. But to get into that, I'd have to tell you the entire story and that would defeat the purpose of not telling you his name," she murmured. "And if there's one thing I hate, it's that." Hermione took another sip of her wine, thinking over what she wanted to say to him next. "Do you trust Severus Snape?"

"You know I do…" he started only to have her cut him off with a hand gesture.

"Severus trusts Raymond," she told Harry plainly. "And people with him don't automatically get his trust. They have to earn it. You know that, Harry."

He was forced to agree to that, as even after the war Severus didn't automatically trust him. It wasn't until a year or two later that Harry realized that Snape was beginning to tell him stories about his mother as a child did he know that he earned a small amount of it.

"Hermione…" he started, but paused for a moment. "Do you trust him?"

"I wouldn't have married him if I didn't," she replied.

Resigning himself to the fact that this was as good of an answer about the man she married that he was going to get, he murmured, "Then I'm happy for you."

The lunch lasted for another hour before they both had to leave—He to his work and she to go back to her flat to see how the packing was going. When she arrived it was to see the last of her books being packed away in the boxes. She looked around the empty flat that she thought she would be spending the next several years in alone with at least five cats. When she told Raymond as much, he had laughed and kissed her temple.

"As if I would allow that to happen," he said casually.

She looked over to the one oversized chair still left in the room. Raymond was napping, looking pale and unwell. He worked too hard and didn't tend his own illnesses as he should. Dembe entered the flat and the two of them stared at Raymond for a time.

"Did he go to the doctor yet?" she asked.

"No," he answered quietly. "It isn't for the lack of those around him asking him to go."

She nodded to this, walking over to him and kneeling in front of him. Raymond's eyes opened to see her there. It was with a shaking hand that he reached out and caressed her face.

"Please go to the doctor," she whispered. "If not for you, then for me. Please, Raymond. I will beg if need be."

He moved so that he was now, pulling her into his lap. He kissed her forehead and called out, "Dembe?"

"Yes?" he replied.

"Make an appointment with my doctor," he ordered quietly. "Tell him I need the soonest available appointment."

"Yes, sir," he murmured, and pulled out his cellphone as he went about making the appointment.

Once Dembe was out of the room, Raymond inquired, "Happy?"

"I will be when I know it's not serious," she told him.

"Hermione?" She lifted her face to look at him in the eyes. "I think it is serious." His lips pursed and his eyes went sad. "Very serious."

Leaning forward, she kissed his mouth lightly and said, "I will rip apart the world if need be to make you well."

He nodded to this. "I know, but hopefully it won't come to that."

…

**_One year later…_**

Raymond lay in the bed, his hair gone. Hermione was sitting next to him reading as Dembe was at the door. Luli came rushing in, stopping dead in her tracks at the sight of the once strong man now wasting away in the bed before her. She looked over to Hermione. It looked like she had lost weight as well and Luli seriously doubted she had a moment's rest since this had started.

She went over to Hermione, asking, "Do you want me to stay with him. You can get something to eat. Maybe get some sunshine?"

Hermione smiled at that. "Thank you, Luli. But no, my place is here."

"You should go get some sun," Raymond said hoarsely. "Get a tan."

Laughing, Hermione told him, "I'm British, love. We're not known for our tanning abilities."

"Then get something to eat," he ordered her. "You haven't eaten in hours."

Worrying her lower lip, she asked, "Are you sure?"

"Dembe, take her to eat a real meal," he called out. "Viktor will be here soon and he can watch the door then."

In truth, Hermione knew that Viktor was already there. Raymond did as well. But why have Dembe watching her? And then it hit her. It was to keep her from calling for magical help. Severus knew that he was ill. It had been going on for a year, how could he not? But he had never been told just how ill Raymond was.

Hermione got up, kissing his forehead and his mouth. "Try to get some rest, Raymond."

"I do nothing but sleep," he complained.

"And yet it's never real rest," she replied, caressing his scalp. "I'll be back before you know it. And you can tell me about how you made that little nurse in training blush yet again."

He chuckled. "That is fun."

"Apparently, as you try to do so at least once a day," she murmured, standing up straight.

She left the room and soon enough they were out on the street. It took her a good few minutes before she gathered the gumption to turn to Dembe to speak to him.

"This new treatment isn't working," she told him. "You see it as well as I do."

He reluctantly nodded. "But what else can be done?"

"Here? With these doctors and treatments? Nothing," she admitted. "You do realize that the reason that he had you rather than Viktor come out with me to lunch was to keep me from doing what I'll be doing right now."

He tilted his head and asked, "This is to make him well?"

She nodded.

"It isn't evil?"

"He's snarky, brooding, and at one time was on the verge of being evil, but no, he is not outright evil."

He rocked back on his heels and said, "If this will cure him, I say to do it."

She pulled out her phone. "I've done it his way for too long and it has gotten us nowhere." Hermione dialed Severus. "Now, it's my turn."

…

Red didn't know what woke him. The room was dark with the only lights coming in from under the door to the hallway and from the night sky. He looked over to the chair to find Severus Snape staring out the window.

"Where is my wife?" he asked quietly.

"Asleep," the British wizard told him. "I gave her a nutritional supplement as well as a dreamless sleep." He nodded his head toward the other side of his bed.

Raymond looked over to see Hermione sound asleep on a cot there, resting for the first time in far too long. Her face looked too wane and her bones seemed to be standing out all the more. Damn, when was the last time she had a meal?

"She called you?" he breathed, wanting to get up to join her in her bed and stroke at her untamable locks.

"You know she did," Severus told him. "Do you want to die?"

"No one _wants_ to die." He looked away. "Some may feel it's their only choice, while others may feel they have to. But no one wants to die—not really."

"Then why in the name of Merlin haven't you allowed her to call me to help?" he demanded quietly. "You may feel this is just punishment for whatever crime you think you may have done, but the only one you're punishing, Raymond, is your wife."

Red winced at his words. The truth hurt, as it was written all over his wife's face.

"Will you accept the help I am offering to you?" Severus asked him. "Without your consent, the potions will only prolong the pain of this cancer you have. I've seen as much before."

He lay there staring up at the ceiling, his mind a whirl as he thought over what he was told. "Yes. I'll accept the help. I have far too much to do before I leave this mortal coil, my friend. And I will see it done."

**TBC…**

**…**

**And there you go. The first chapter of three. Did you like it? Review to let me know what you think. I changed it up a bit, as I wanted the first set of one shots to be connected to the prequels with this story being a bridge of sorts. Thanks for reading and have a splendid day!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer—I do not own the Blacklist, Harry Potter or any of the characters therein. Nor do I make any moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.**

**Here we are again! Chapter two coming out at ya. Thank you to everyone that took the time to review, follow and favorite. You guys rock. Enjoy.**

**SPOILERS!-Though minor in nature there are some spoilers within the whole of this story for the Blacklist (Seasons 1 and the beginning of season 2). Yes, I should have posted as much in chapter 1, but honestly it completely slipped my mind. I apologize.**

**Please read and review!**

**…**

**Chapter Two**

**_Six months later…_**

"What do you mean you're going to turn yourself in to the F.B.I.?" Hermione asked, looking at him startled.

"It's time," he told her. "The list is made, all the players are in place, and it is time." He went over to her and took up her hands. Rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles, he said, "The doctors say I am in remission, but you and I know I'm cured." She nodded to this. "It will be good to see Lizzie. I've been worried about her." He smiled. "Given how closely I have her watched you'd think I'd be fine…"

"But reports and seeing as much in person are two different things," Hermione murmured, lifting his hands and kissing them both. "Understandable."

He nodded to this. "We won't be able to see as much of each other."

"No matter where you are, I will be by your side most every night. And the best part, no one will be the wiser about it. I'm a witch, Raymond. I say we take full advantage of that, don't you?"

Smiling he replied, "Agreed."

He stood up and pulled her to her feet, hugging her. "Liz is going to be starting her first official day with the F.B.I. in two months. That will give us enough time to set up the first of the safe houses, as well as any emergency contingencies we need." He studied her face. "How did Harry take it when you told him that you asked for an open ended sabbatical at the Ministry?"

"I told him about your illness and that I wanted to spend time with you that didn't involve you being sick." She smiled. "He understood, but he asked me what we were planning on doing for money while I wasn't working." She flushed. "I told him you were independently wealthy." This had Raymond laughing. "What he doesn't know, won't hurt him."

"Very true," he sighed. "Grey?!"

"Yes, sir?" the tall reed thin man asked as he entered the room.

"Is brunch ready?"

"Whenever you are, sir," he replied.

"Very good," he said, his attention turning back to his wife. "Let's eat and we can talk about my list."

"Does it have a name?" she inquired, as they made their way over to the "breakfast nook"—a nook that turned out to be bigger than most people's entire homes.

"A name?" He thought that over. "No."

"You really should put a name to it. It gives the list meaning and import," she told him. "Look at history, if you will. There are so many items, events, or collections over the ages that would have been forgotten if not for their names. The Amber Room would have been just another fancy palace chamber forgotten after it vanished during World War II if not for that name. And the Ark of the Covenant? Just another lost trunk."

"And the Ten Commandments therein just another list, I suppose?" he drawled. "Point made."

They entered the room and he pulled out the chair for her. Kissing her cheek, he went over to his place and sat down. "But what to name it?"

"What do they have in common other than you?" she asked him just as their food was brought over and placed in front of each of them.

Raymond said nothing as he ate, thinking over what she had asked him. It wasn't until they were both finished eating that he mentioned the list once again.

"How about the Blacklist?" he murmured. "They are a list of some of the darkest, most dangerous individuals I've ever made the acquaintance of."

"It's easy to recall, as well," she said. "They'll more than likely will make a connection to the blacklisting from days of yore."

"True," he replied.

"One of these days you must explain that whole business with the blacklisting of the supposed Communists. I can't comprehend it at all. But that's more to do with the fact that I don't think I've heard all of what was involved in what happened."

"I doubt anyone truly does know everything that happened back then," he murmured. "It started out as a small fire under a senator's ass and became an inferno that crossed the nation that eventually consumed itself. There is only one thing I am positive of when it comes to that business."

"And what is that?" she inquired.

"Thank God for Edward R. Murrow!"

…

**_Two months later…_**

Hermione watched as they took Raymond away in chains. Everything in her wanted to rush over to him and free him from them and the men taking him away. But this was what he had wanted, dare she think it, even needed. Grey slipped up next to her, as they watched the man they knew taken away.

"This is what he had wanted," he reminded her.

"I know," she said hoarsely. "But there is a drive within me, Grey, something I am forcing myself to ignore at this moment."

Curious, he asked, "What would that be?"

She looked over to him and said, "I grew up an only child and if there is one thing on this planet that I grew accustomed to getting over the years that would be my own way in nearly every matter."

He nodded to this in understanding. The F.B.I. left and he murmured, "We should go, ma'am."

Nodding, she walked away with him to where Dembe was waiting for them in their car.

It wasn't until they were in the car that her phone started ringing. She answered it absently with a, "Yes?"

"Your husband was wanted by the Federal Bureau of Investigations?!" Harry exclaimed.

She was silent a moment before saying, "Call me back when you've learned volume control." And hung up on him. Turning to Grey, she told him, "I love Harry like a brother, but there are times, like now, that I wish he was born mute." She thought that over. "Or with an inability to go over a certain voice decibel level when upset."

Grey held back a small grin, but said nothing.

Hermione's phone rang again and she answered it, "Yes?"

"Your husband was wanted by the muggle authorities?" This came from Ginny even as Harry was yelling in the background.

"There's more going on here than you can even come to understand in a year of Sundays, Gin," she told her friend. "I'll be there within the next three days to explain what I can."

"Just tell me this," Ginny said. "He isn't wanted for killing all his other wives, is he?"

That actually gained her a chuckle. "No, he isn't."

…

Hermione healed the wound to Red's neck, holding back her temper as she did so. Once he was completely healed, she put bandaging on his throat to make it look as if it were still injured.

She had held her tongue for this long, but no longer. "I know you love her." Hermione looked into his eyes. "And I know that you've risked your life for hers over the years. I would expect nothing less."

"But?" he drawled.

"That girl of yours needs a swat across that rock hard head of hers!" she snapped. "Nothing life threatening, but just something to get her with the program."

He was quiet for a time before he began chuckling to himself, pulling her into his arms. "I know, my love. That she does. But alas, she gets it from her father's side of the family."

Hugging him back, she breathed, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he sighed. "I have to tell you. That girl has a fine temper on her."

"Hmm, tempers such as hers…" she muttered. "Liz is too impetuous. She leads with her emotions and I can see that being a problem later on."

"As do I," he replied in a resigned voice. "But it's something I can work with."

"People work with dynamite as well, but I still wouldn't recommend playing with it," she replied.

He nodded to this, murmuring, "Let's start getting ready for bed."

Pulling back, she studied him a moment. "Brandy or whiskey?"

"Whiskey. You know how I like it."

…

**_One year later…_**

"Dammit!" Liz came close to throwing her own laptop. She was getting nowhere in the search for her husband.

Husband, she thought. Was he ever really her husband? It had all be a part of this large game that she had been pulled into. Resigning herself to the truth that she wasn't going to be getting him on her own, she called the one person she knew would be able to find Tom Keen.

"Yes, Lizzie?" he breathed.

"Did I wake you?"

"Well, as odd as this might sound, it is three in the morning and even I need sleep," he told her and asked in a nearly resigned voice, "What do you want, Lizzie?"

"I can't find Tom."

He was silent for a moment before saying, "I'll call you back."

Looking at the cellphone in frustration, Liz didn't know to throw it or clutch at it in the hopes that he'd call back before the sun rose.

…

Red looked at the phone deeply in thought, as Hermione snuggled up with him all the more.

"Who was it?" she sighed, still more asleep than awake.

"Liz," he answered. "She's asked for my help finding Tom."

Blinking awake, she murmured, "I know where he is."

"I know," he replied, his voice a bit hard as he said as much.

Lifting herself slightly up, she looked at his face as she said, "If you didn't want me involved in this, you shouldn't have had me and my team tracking him."

"I know that as well," he said, this time sounding resigned. "Berlin is too close. If I introduce you to Liz, he is going to hunt down anything he can on you."

"And he'll find out everything that the F.B.I. will when they investigate me," she said. "I put up an iron wall and it's going to take more than connections and the internet to find out anything about me." His eyes went to hers and found that she was staring at him in earnest. "And they will investigate me. Liz will more than likely do so on her own. She's not a fool, Raymond. That paired with her stubborn nature will have her digging for any little bit of information on me and my connection to you."

"In other words, I should be more concerned about Liz?"

"Slightly," she admitted. "Berlin is dangerous, but Liz…" She paused. "Her world is being tossed about and turned on its head. Everything and everyone she thought she could count on is but an illusion."

"None of it was real," he muttered flatly.

"I know that and something tells me that she knows it too," she told him. "What it comes down to is this—no one likes an alarm clock."

"I take it that I'm the alarm clock in this?" he asked her to which she nodded.

"She didn't like being awoken to the fact that her world wasn't what she wanted it to be," she told him.

He gave a reluctant nod to this.

"You don't like the part you had to play in shaking up her world?" He looked over to her. "You knew it was going to happen."

"I did."

"You want her safe and happy," she told him. "You always have. The best you can do is accept your place as the alarm clock." His eyes shot over to her to see that she had a teasing smile on her face.

"Minx," he said laughing.

Moving towards him and wrapping her arms around him, she purred seductively, "You certainly woke me up."

"Then I must take advantage of this," he growled playfully and captured his wife's mouth with his own.

**TBC…**

**…**

**And that's chapter two! How are you liking it? Please review to let me know what you think, how you like it, and what you think might be coming. Thanks and have a ridiculously excellent day!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer—I do not own the Blacklist, Harry Potter or any of the characters therein. Nor do I make any moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.**

**Hello! Here's the last chapter. Enjoy!**

**Please read and review!**

**…**

**Chapter Three**

There were times that Hermione's eye for detail completely astounded Red. When she says she's going to take care of something, she means it right down to the smallest crumb of an idea. She had the entire bank of buildings magically warded with teams of two covering the roofs in case someone got the bright idea to bring in snipers. And she would have Viktor by her side to watch her back. When she told her husband of the plan, he thought it overkill.

"You said it yourself," she told him. "This last blacklister was rather…tenacious."

He nodded to this.

"And he was very pissed off."

"So you think he would set me up like that?" he inquired.

"Given what you told me about the man, I wouldn't put anything past him."

He couldn't help but to agree.

"If nothing happens, great. But if something does, we're ready for it," she told him, as she magically straightened her own hair and put it up into a loose bun. She slid on her jacket and looked over to him. "Well? How do I look?"

"Grey power suit," he murmured, enjoying how the grey wool hugged her every curve. "Dior?"

"A straight man that knows his designers is a rare and wondrous thing," she said in a light teasing tone that had him smiling.

"Something's missing," he muttered, as he looked her over.

"There is?" She turned towards the mirror she had been using to look herself over once again. "Glasses!"

"Yes! That's it," he said, as she pulled out black eyeglass frames with tape in the middle and lenses that must have been made out of coke bottom glass they were so thick. She put them on and turned towards him. "Good lord, Hermione, can you even see with those on?"

"I can see perfectly well," she told him. "It's my nerd costume." She looked at herself. "Overkill, huh?"

Chuckling he hugged her from behind and kissed her cheek, telling her, "Just a bit."

She changed to large brown frames that were far more fashionable with lenses that only appeared to magnify the size of her eyes.

Hermione turned towards him and murmured, "Better?"

"Much," he replied quietly. "After we're done with business today, what do you say we go to that little bistro Mrs. Kaplan told us about?"

"She did say that Kate loved their Lobster ravioli," she murmured. "And she praised their chocolate cake and added that was well worth the extra workout time." She grinned with a joy usually reserved for a child on Christmas morning. "I want dessert first!"

…

She didn't know what to expect of Liz upon meeting her, but as odd as it might have been a cheap, black polyester, business pant suit wasn't it. Liz attempted to take over the meeting several times—she failed. The girl needed to learn that forcing ones will onto any situation didn't get you the control. No. You simply took it, made it yours, and moved on. It was a pity the other woman hadn't learned this before, Hermione thought vaguely even as she completely dominated the conversation.

Hermione took the time to tell Raymond what she had promised Luli she would do for her if anything were to happen to her. She had wanted to tell him before, but he would have heard nothing of it. He had a task and he wasn't going to listen until he was finished. It had gotten to the point that he had told her that she needed to go to visit family and friends while he took his revenge. He spent weeks hunting down those responsible. Hermione never doubted that if Anslo Garrick had lived, her husband would kill him all over again in the slowest, most painful way possible.

Doing as he had, hunting down the people responsible for Luli's death and the threatening of those he had felt responsible for, had hurt Red more than he allowed others to see. He had tried to hide as much from her, but failed as she knew him far too well for such to work. But the one that hurt him the most was Grey—his most trusted man servant. His betrayal alone was enough to get Red to put more guards onto their island home, not to mention another set of guards on Liz that the Federal agent had no clue about.

Hermione walked away from the meeting with the firm idea that yes Liz was going to do everything in her power to find out all she could about her. It was in every line of her being and it was very hard to miss. Hermione could only hope that it didn't go completely sour.

…

The F.B.I. arrested Hermione at her favorite coffee house. It wasn't the fact that they picked her up while she was there that bothered her, but the fact that she had yet to get her espresso. She went along quietly. Hermione was nothing if not cooperative, even when her back began to tighten did she show nothing but respect and agreement towards the people taking her into custody. She nearly balked at the black hood being pulled over her head. Forcing herself not to hyperventilate, tension her body soon had her back going into full blown spasm. Biting back her cursing, she made herself focus on her breathing. But it didn't stop the nightmare in her head, as flashes of Bellatrix went through her mind. Pain and unreasonable thoughts warred in her head—would they have knives? Would they cut her?

When they finally arrived at the Post Office, they took the hood off and she was walked over to a closed room interrogation area. Hermione asked if she could play games on her phone and oddly enough they permitted her to do so.

There she sat and waited for the next two hours until she asked to use the loo. Once back over to the chair, she was playing her games once more. In the end, it was a tie which was bothering her more—her back pain, the terror that would never happen running like a film reel in her head or the outright boredom inherent to the situation at hand. But throughout it all she kept her face cool and unemotional. Breaking now in the face of something so minor would make her feel like a fool. And she was never going to allow that to happen.

Finally, she was questioned and by none other than Liz herself. The woman was good, Hermione had to admit, but there was still a lot she had to learn. Not the least of which was that Hermione had nothing anyone would call empathy when in as much pain as she was in at that moment. She scared Liz and used magic, when she knew that she should never have done either. Hermione felt that it was well within her rights, given what she had been put through. If they had a material witness warrant, she was seven feet tall!

By the time she arrived where she was staying with Red, she was in a fine temper. Her hair was a wild mess that was sending off sparks that could light up a dark room. Red saw her passing the study he was in and leapt up, rushing after her.

"What happened?" he asked her, as they reached her own study.

"I was pulled in on a bogus material witness warrant," she told him, as she turned to face him. "They even went so far as to pull in the Homeland Securities Act as well."

"Viktor called me," he admitted. "Told me what he knew."

"I figured as much," she said quietly, as she sat on the edge of her desk. "Where is the next Blacklister?"

"New Orleans," he murmured. "Why?"

"I don't think I can travel," she admitted, her head lowering slightly as she did so. "I panicked when they put a hood over my head. My back…" Tears began dripping down her face. "My back…I can't move any more."

Cursing he, pressed his hand to the middle of her back and found the muscles jerking and twitching spasmodically. Scooping her up, he carried her over to the bedroom yelling for Dembe.

The large man came charging over, stopping in the doorway.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Call Viktor. I know it's his day off, but I need for him to get in contact with my wife's doctor," he told him. "Blaise Zabini needs to come here now! Tell Viktor that her back is in full spasm."

"Right away," he replied and went off to do as he was ordered.

Red was supposed to leave for New Orleans that day, but didn't do so until two days later. But unlike normal, Hermione went to their island home in the U.A.E. in the attempt to relax rather than stay with him. For a man that had grown accustomed to having his wife with him, this left Raymond in a quietly seething temper.

His wife, his Hermione, should have been there with him. True, they had been separated before and would more than likely be so again. But not like this and certainly not when he thought she would be having sleepless nights, nightmares during those times she did managed to fall asleep, and further pain. And given how she was prone to ignore her issues until forced otherwise, this made him all the more irritated.

And so as a result he had thrown down the gauntlet. Lizzie had pushed him too far in this. He had taken an oath the day he made vows to his wife. He had sworn that he would protect her. And he had meant every word. He may have started running through the Blacklist for Liz, but if pushed he would put an end to it for Hermione.

His phone rang as he was walking away from his short meeting with Liz and smiled at the caller I.D. showing that it was the Smithsonian.

Answering it, "Feeling better?"

"Yes," she murmured. "Just a quick aside before I start on what I wanted to speak to you about. Were you able to get that futbol for Rahim?"

"Yes I did," he said with a grin. "And I got one for Teddy as well."

"Oh, he'll love it!" she said. "I invited them over for this next week, if that's alright?"

"Hermione, it's your home as well," he lectured her softly.

"I know, but it's not the same without you here," she sighed. "If I'm up to it, I can meet you in New Orleans. There's this little place to eat that I've been to before. Actually, if you want to be technical, it's not a restaurant. It's a voodoo priestess that sells food out of her back of her house. I'm telling you that she makes the best shrimp etouffee in all of New Orleans."

"No, you rest there," he insisted. "What's the address where I can find this supposed best shrimp etouffee in this town?"

She told him the address and added, "Give Wilma my best, if you will?"

Laughing, he said, "I'll keep that and give her what's left."

Chuckling she replied, "My best is always yours, Red. She'd have to make do with my second best anyway."

"As it should be," he murmured. "Now, what did you call about?"

Clearing her throat, she said, "Are you aware that Donald Ressler has developed a very bad OxyContin habit?"

He was silent for a time before asking, "How bad?"

"He has at this time seven different scripts for it," she informed him. "And this has been going on since one of Garrick's men shot him in the thigh, but it didn't become an increasing problem until after his former fiancée was killed."

"I would imagine so," he murmured. "I'll keep an eye on him and when it becomes an issue, we'll arrange something at that point."

"As you wish. But if you're going to take a wait and see attitude, you might want to see to it that Liz has someone watching her back other than him. Since the death of the C.I.A. operative Malik, the only person she has watching her back in the field is Agent Ressler."

"Funny enough, I've already started on just that," he said with a smile.

"I love the way your mind works, Raymond," she sighed.

He covered his heart with his hand and declared, "That is the highest praise indeed, Hermione. Thank you." He saw Dembe motioning to him. "I must be off. I'll call you when I go eat later."

"Okay," she murmured. "Take care and tell Dembe not to let Wilma scare him. She's a sweet woman, but she does love scaring the tourists."

"That I will," he said with a smile. "Until later."

"Until later," she echoed and they disconnected together.

Raymond smiled to himself, as he told his bodyguard of the location they would be going for the shrimp etouffee that evening.

"I don't know how she does it," he told his friend. "But she finds these small, dare I say, painfully tiny eateries that manage to make the best food one can find in a region. I have no idea how she does it. None!"

Dembe chuckled at this. "Perhaps you should just accept it as one of her many talents?"

This only had his grin growing, as he said, "When we get to the place we're eating at, I'll tell you about how we met. It's a good story."

**The End!**

**…**

**And so another Blacklist/Harry Potter fanfiction has come to a close! Thank you for your time, your consideration, and your support. For those wondering, yes, there will be another story after this one. I'm working on it now. And hopefully it'll be finished before the youngest of you hits retirement. Wish me luck. Have a wonderful day, everyone.**


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